


Distracted

by DeeNomilk



Series: Tashok the Dragonborn [17]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dawnstar - Freeform, Family, I have a problem, Nightmares, Tash adopts another child, Will i stop? no, alchemy is done, and by she I mean I, she has a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 18:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNomilk/pseuds/DeeNomilk
Summary: Going to check out a new museum is Tashok's way of relaxing. It involves knowledge, and absolutely no fighting. It's perfect, really. That is, it would be if she wasn't so absent-minded.





	Distracted

**Author's Note:**

> Just before we get in the story I want to thank everyone reading this, and especially those who gives kudos, comments and all that. It really makes me happy to see someone else enjoying what I make!
> 
> Also, I am officially done school. Hopefully this means I'll actually get to write!

** _Silius Vesiuis Presents _ **

** _The Museum of the Mythic Dawn_ **

** _A History of the Cult that Toppled the Septim Dynasty_ **

** _Inside of his very own home in the great capital of the Pale, Dawnstar_ **

** _Free and open to all citizens of Skyrim_ **

“Well… if it’s free…” Tashok mumbles to herself as she descents the bridge of the College of Winterhold.

“It certainly won’t hurt us to visit.” Inigo peeks over Tashok’s shoulder at the museum pamphlet. “We certainly deserve a vacation.”

“I’d bring the children,” Tashok smirks. “But I’m not sure that a cult is a very child-friendly subject.”

“Awe, really?” Teldryn drawls. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled.”

A pleasant, easy silence settles between the group as they walk down the main road towards Dawnstar.

“Ever been to Dawnstar?” Tashok asks a few hours into the journey.

“Never.” Lucien answers. “The name is quite alluring, don’t you think?”

“I hear it is a mining port town.” Inigo comments. “I have passed through before, but never stayed.”

“We should be there by tomorrow night.” Tashok says after a quick mental tally. “They have an inn, right?”

“They must… surely.” Lucien ponders.

“Every place has an inn. Sometimes it’s all the place has!” Teldryn clasps Tashok’s shoulder.

Despite the hard motion, Tashok barely falters in her posture and her step. This draws a smile from Teldryn, not that anyone can see it.

He’s had some rather fragile patrons before, which was always strenuous as far as he was concerned.He found out he much preferred patrons who could handle a fight, or at the very least didn’t collapse at the slightest sign of strife.

His preference was what had drawn him to his previous patron, despite his… peculiar… personality.

—

Tashok’s stomach tangles up as she approaches what she assumes is Dawnstar. She looks around hurriedly, wondering if there’s danger nearby, but everything seems fine.

Perhaps the reason for her gut rearranging themselves is because of that Eidar cheese she ate? Lucien did warn her it seemed a bit _too_ smelly, even by Eidar cheese standards.

Funny that.

She can eat poisonous ingredients in her quest for knowledge and get away with only a mildly disgusted face, yet cheese is what triumphs over her.

“That must be Dawnstar, in the distance.” Inigo sighs in relief.

The group was sorely regretting not paying for a carriage to cross the landscape from Winterhold. Not only was the Northern, em, breeze, as cutting as usual, the powder it blew around made it doubly difficult to travel without snow shoes, as each of their step sunk deep into the snow.

Hopefully they can find a store that sells them. Any store.

A heavy blanket of silence, safe for the howling wind surrounding the group, falls as they near the gates of the small hold.

Tashok sees the signs to an inn and yearns for the wonderful aroma of a warm soup.

She quickens her step, invigorated by the possibility of a heated, dry inn, but a gloved hand comes around her upper arm, halting her.

She turns around to see Inigo holding her, who tilts his head back towards Lucien, who’s partly turned to look behind them.

“Lucien?” she asks as she steps to him.

Lucien’s brow is furrowed, seemingly perplexed. His gaze is distant, falling in a ruined tower barely visible in the distance.

“Does something…?” he pauses. “Feel, _wrong_ in the air here to you?”

“I… uh. Yeah.” Tashok stammers. “I thought it was just the cheese I had.”

“There’s something off about this place I just… Can’t seem to put my finger on _what_ exactly.”

“Have you two considered making your hypotheses somewhere warmer?” Teldryn calls out to them. “Like the inn so conveniently located less than a minute’s walk away, perhaps?”

“He’s right.” Tashok concedes and slips her hand around her friend, gently ushering him back towards the town. “No point freezing our tips out here.”

“Our what?” Lucien chuckles.

“Our tips!” Tashok’s answer is met by blinking. “Tip of our toes? Our fingers? My ears…?”

“Right. Of course.”

Lucien makes no effort to conceal his amusement.

Tashok, however, feels quite conflicted. On one hand, it’s reassuring to know that her friend also sensed whatever it was that ailed her, yet on the other, this solidified the belief that something was indeed wrong.

She just hopes that whatever it is, she and her friends will avoid it.

The ever-present gust coming from the sea, dramatic as ever, practically pushes them into the appropriately named Windpeak Inn. The cold air visibly spreads around the inn, though the patrons barely seem to take notice to both the chill and the adventurers’ presence. Even the innkeeper seems to be in a daze, bags clear under his eyes, which are unfocussed and distant.

Tashok gingerly approaches the counter and waves with a small “hello”.

“Mh?” the Nord blinks. “Sorry. My mind was… elsewhere. Are you interested in a room?”

“Two, actually.” Tashok motions to her companions. “Unless you have a room that can fit the four of us.”

“M’afraid not. That’ll be 20 septims.”

A few more coins later, the group’s belongings are safely tucked into their respective rooms and a warm serving of horker stew sits before them.

“Seems Dawnstar is a port town full of struggling minors…” Teldryn takes a sip from his ale before smriking. “Sounds a lot like a certain town in Solstheim, eh?”

"Somehow it's even sadder..." Tashok says between two bites.

“Every one seems so exhausted…” Lucien notes as he glances about the room.

“Bad dreams, according to what my ears have been overhearing.” Inigo adds.

“Maybe I can make them a Restful potion… I have the lavender… And some valerian… Not sure I have enough for a whole town though…” Tashok opens her knapsack, making a small inventory of her ingredients. “Maybe this place has more? If not oatflower will do the trick. They must have that at least…”

Tashok scans the room before her eyes fall on a little boy, a young Redguard, no older than 10 years old, sitting cross legged on a bedroll on the floor. She takes a slice of the apple pie before them and approaches him.

“Excuse me, little boy?” she kneels in front of him, and hands him the pie. “Here.”

“Oh! Thank you miss!” the child’s hands gently take the plate.

“What you name, little one?”

“Alesan…”

“Alesan. Would you be so kind as to tell me if your town has an alchemy shop?”

“Alchemy shop?”

“Yes. Sometimes people can call it other things, you go there to buy potions.”

“Oh… Yes! Dawnstar has that. It’s not exactly my town, though…”

Alesan’s gaze falls as he purses his lips into a sad pout.

“Oh? Are you here with your parents?” Tashok looks around but sees no one that seems to pay the child any mind.

“No.” the boy looks visibly stricken.

_Shit_… Tashok immediately knows she made a mistake but bringing up parents.

“They’re dead…” Alesan’s eyes begin to water as his voice trembles. “My pa was a sailor. I went with him but… He got sick. Then they dropped us off here and left without us. He died a few days later. I’ve tried to make do since then but it’s hard… Real hard.”

He takes a deep breath, clearly trying to compose himself. Tashok’s arms are wrapping the child in a comforting embrace before she realizes it. Alesan’s breath hitches as he huddles himself closer. Unsure, but clearly craving the affection.

“And, you have no one here?” Tashok whispers.

She looks at all the adults around the inn.

“No.” she feels Alesan shake his head. They let me stay here at the inn most nights in exchange for running errands. And the priest buys me food every time he comes by…”

Tashok scowls.

_Most nights…_

“I…” she starts. “I have a house down south. With other children. You could come with me, if you want.”

The child jumps and Tashok thinks she’s crossed a line, yet the child looks doesn’t look offended at the idea.

He looks hopeful.

“You mean it?!” he lets out a breath he’d been holding since she spoke.

“I do. You’re welcome to come with me, if you want.” Tashok reassures him.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Tashok’s companions had been listening since the child had began tearing up.

“Oh I know _that_ look.” Lucien says with a hint of both fondness and exasperation.

“Seems we will need to come back for the museum another time.” Inigo adds. “I suspect our friend here will want to bring the child home immediately.”

—

Tashok is no stranger to nightmares.

Specifically horrific, painful nightmares. She’s been getting dreams that leave awake, sweaty with cold terror and shaking most nights.

This is infinitely worse.

Especially since, for the life of her, she can’t seem to remember what left her feeling more exhausted than she was before she went to sleep.

“Ugh..” she brings her finger to her temples.

A quick glance to the side and she notes her companion, and her child, now, are still deeply asleep but most definitely not getting any rest.

What’s wrong with this place…?

Unwilling to subject herself to another nightmare, she slips out of the bed with all the sneakiness she can muster.

Which is quite a lot, admittedly.

She wrings her robe within her hands nervously as she steps out of the inn and into the cold air of dawn. The resident alchemist had appreciated her potions and had told her that she was welcome to come back and make more at any moment.

She’d even given Tashok a key.

Not that Tashok truly needed it, if she’d wanted to enter.

She flexes her wrists and begins making another batch of potions. The oatflower is thankfully dry, which saves her a lot of time and effort, allowing her to cut straight to grinding the ingredient into a fine powder. She continues this until the alchemist steps inside, bringing in both an armful of lavender and a cold cutting wind.

“You’re here already?!” the alchemist blinks in surprise.

“I couldn’t sleep. Decided I’d get started.” Tashok explains.

Understanding immediately dawns upon the elderly woman’s face.

“Strange… Bad dreams don’t usually affect the travellers.” Frida notes as she sets down the lavender.

“My friend and I are more… uh, arcanely inclined? Maybe we can feel it more…” Tashok shrugs. “Beside, I’m used to nightmares, just not like this.”

“Ah. That certainly explains all the lavender you had on you.”

The woman’s hand comes to rest gently on Tashok’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

“Thank you for your help. I’d run out of potions ages ago, and I couldn’t keep up with the demand.”

“Glad I could help. I’ll be leaving again soon, I’m afraid… Alesan is coming with me and I’m making sure he makes it home safe and sound.”

“Do try and bring more ingredients, if you come back.”

Despite their sluggish movements, both alchemists manage to combine their efforts and make a hefty amount of potions within a few hours.

Tashok is now in the process of trying to refuse money from an increasingly more insistant and firm elderly lady, when the door flies open. Teldryn steps in energetically, which both soothes and irritates Tashok.

“So when are we heading out?” Teldryn asks. “Inigo thinks we should eat first, but we’ll have to leave soon if we want to make good time. What with the kid and all.”

“Yes! Food, child…” Tashok takes the opportunity to exit the conversation. “Goodbye Frida!”

“You little rascal.” Frida mutters, a smirk sneaking its way onto her face.

—

Tashok opted for hiring a carriage to return to her home. Truly there was no way she was about to make the small, sleep-deprived child walk all the way from Dawnstar to her homestead. The poor lad would’ve dropped long before they would have reached Whiterun.

As it was, Alesan slept soundly for the majority of the trip, huddled against Tashok as she flipped through a book regarding the Realm of Oblivion she bought back in Winterhold, but never got around to reading.

The ability to summon often overlapped with Oblivion itself, and as such the more familiar Tashok can be with the realm, the better she can refine her Conjuration magic.

“Where are we?” Alesan asks as they step off the carriage.

“Riverwood.” Tashok supplies while taking his hand in hers. “Our house is farther that way… Halfway between here and Falkreath.”

“I’m not sure where this is…”

The young boy glances around, eyes wide. Despite the crisp, cool autumn air that’s begun settling over the land, Riverwood is much more pleasant than Dawnstar could ever be, and Alesan finds his eyes falling shut as he takes in a breath.

He feels the warmth of his new mother’s hand on his seeping through her glove, firm and gentle all at once.

The realization that this is something he never thought he’d feel again hits him, and he squeezes her hand ever more tightly.

And siblings! He’s never had siblings before…

Sisters, according to what his new mom told him on the way. It’s a bit disappointing, really, as he’d hoped for someone he’d be able to relate to.

He takes in the warm colours of the leaves around him as they walk along the path bordering the river. The wind occasionally pushes said leaves off the branches and onto the ground with the other fallen foliage in a blanket of yellows, red and oranges.

The sun begins to fall behind the mountains, hidden, despite its light still shining bright enough for them to see. They soon reach a house — a big one, and Alesan can’t help but wonder who lives there. Perhaps a Thane, or someone equally important.

“Here we are.” Tashok sighs happily.

“We’re here?!” Alesan blinks. He glances at the building, then at Tashok. “This is your home?!”

“Well, our home now.” she runs her thumb over his hand. “Come, I suspect the others are still up.”

She pushes takes out a key and pushes the door open, allowing him in. For a moment Alesan is confused; the home looks much smaller, with a bed and very basic amenities inside. That is until he glances up and sees that a set of double doors opens up into a much larger home. He can see a fireplace, two sets of stairs and a long dining table, where three young girls are seated, one of which is speaking excitedly at a woman, an Imperial, who listens on with asoft smile.

The woman starts when the door closes behind them, looking momentarily alarmed until she sees them.

“Oh, you’re back.” she lets out a breath.

“Sure are. Thank you for watching over my girls…” Tashok drops her large traveling pack.

“Mama!” a brown haired girl runs to her and jumps into her arms.

“Sofie!” Tashok catches her with a grin.

“Who’s this Mama?” a young Khajiit girl asks curiously from the doorway while a small, blonde girl huddled behind her. 

Those three must be his new sisters.

“Well, girls… This is Alesan.” Tashok lets Sofie down. “Your new brother.”

The Khajiit girl beams at the news and quickly closes the distance between them. Quicker than Alesan would have expected, and he startles a bit when she extends her furred hand.

“I’m Ma’isha.” her smile reaches her eyes.

“H-hi…” he gingerly gives her his hand, which she shakes vigourously.

“That’s Sofie.” she points to the brunette. “And that’s Lucia.” she turns to the blonde, who sheepishly waves at him, partly hidden by the wall.

“You’re back earlier than I expected.” Illia notes when Tashok sits with them at the table.

“Ah. Yes… Well.” Tashok glances at Alesan.

“Of course…” Illia nods, a look of… disappointment? briefly crosses her face. “I suppose I should get going then.

“What? Why?” now it’s Tashok’s turn to look disappointed.

“Well, you hardly need me around now that you’re back…”

“But I like you!” Ma’isha interjects.

“As do I.” Tashok attempts a smile. “I want to see you too, you know. Unless you have other pressing matters?”

Illia sits on the bench, running a hand against her neck and across her shoulder, eyes anywhere but on Tashok.

“You know I don’t.” she says.

“Then stay.” Tashok offers.

Illia doesn’t reply, but a smile slowly creeps onto her lips as she locks eyes with her friend, giving Tashok her answer.


End file.
